Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I’d taken Dozer’s advice to stop worrying so much. I’d even relented and allowed Griff to pick me up at my house, but honestly… that was more the fact I’d run a background check on him that turned up clean.
He’d rumbled up my driveway on the Harley, but after he’d come inside, met my mom, and said hello to Aaron, we decided to take my car since rain was in the forecast later that evening.
We went out for dinner first, and I found it oddly comforting he suggested we eat at TGI Fridays. It wasn’t fancy, and I appreciated the low-key atmosphere. We both sat at the bar, ate ribs, and drank a beer while we chatted.
Again, it was easy talk. Favorite movies, favorite foods, favorite books. After dinner and as we were waiting for the bill, Griff said, “I’m not ready for the evening to end yet. How do you feel about playing some pool or something?”
I’d loved the suggestion because I wasn’t ready for it to be over either. Every passing minute, every little thing I learned about this man, made me like him just a little bit more.
The biker bar he chose is one he’d been to before. He didn’t make attempts to assure me that he’s not a bar fly or he didn’t drink excessively. I like he’s confident enough he doesn’t have to explain how he knows about this bar.
Griff grabs us a beer, and we find an empty table near the back. It’s not overly crowded as it’s still early—barely eight-thirty—and a Wednesday night to boot.
Griff teases me as he racks the balls. “Are you a shark? Should we lay some money on this?”
Chuckling, I tell him the ugly truth. “I haven’t played pool since college, and that was a long damn time ago.”
His head pops up, eyebrows rising. “College, huh? Where did you go?”
Shit. That information is too close to my eventual downfall. Still, I answer with a breezy smile. “MIT.”
Griff’s mouth hangs open slightly. “Damn… I didn’t realize you’re a genuine brainiac. What was your degree in?”
I laugh nervously, playing it off as best I can. “Not too much of a brainiac. I dropped out after my sophomore year. Pregnant with Aaron.”
He nods in what appears to be understanding. I’d left the implication heavy in the air that my pregnancy caused me to leave college when, in reality, it was the fact I’d gotten way too deep into cybercrime.
“I admire you raising Aaron on your own. Getting pregnant in college couldn’t have been easy.”
“Yeah,” I reply a little thickly, shifting away from his gaze to grab a pool stick off the rack on the wall. “Thanks.”
When I turn around, Griff has finished racking the balls and stands at the high-top table we’d set our beers on. He doesn’t mention the pregnancy or Aaron again, for which I should be grateful, but he ends up asking about something even worse.
“So, tell me more about your job,” he says.
I internally wince, knowing the questions are just going to get more personal. I’m nowhere near ready to tell him about my horrible truth. Dozer told me to trust my gut on when the right time would be, and I can affirmatively state now is not that time.
I move over to the table, take a long pull off my beer, and set it down. “Oh, it’s not all that interesting. I basically do minor computer repair, software installation, and troubleshooting for customers.”
“Is that what you were studying at MIT? Computers?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to my beer bottle. I have a moment of sadness over what could have been had I stayed on the righteous path. “Guess that stuff sort of comes naturally to me.”
“Well, dairy farming came naturally to me,” he says with a booming laugh, “but I didn’t like it at all. So the moral to that story is just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you should be doing it for your career.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I chuckle, picking up my beer bottle and tapping it against his. “But seriously… dairy farming can’t be all that bad.”
And just like that, Griff is off and running, explaining about his family’s farm in New York and just how backbreaking the work can truly be. I’m relieved because the attention has been taken from me and the potential avalanche of lies I’d have to keep telling him the more he asked. For the time being, I’m happy to listen to him talk.
Over the next hour, we sip at our beers, play pool, and flirt. Either I’m not as rusty at flirting as I thought I’d be, or the beer is making it easier, but regardless, it’s fun.
I’m having a good time, and I can’t remember the last time I just enjoyed myself with another human being.